The Resurrection of Jairus’ Daughter, from the Codex Egberti, 980-993. City Library, Trier, Germany. This story was the Gospel reading for the 24th Sunday after Trinity.
Over the past ten years, I’ve truly enjoyed writing about the two cantatas Bach wrote for this Sunday, the 24th after Trinity. I’ve updated all three posts and added a new recording. Just click on the article below to find it all. Happy listening!
Magistertaler* which Duke Wilhelm of Saxe-Weimar had minted in Weimar in 1654. Duke Wilhelm was the grandfather of Duke Wilhelm Ernst who reigned during Bach’s time in Weimar.
A romantic soprano-alto duet, a radiant bass aria, and a heavenly tenor aria, Cantata 163 Nur jedem das Seine! (Just to each what is his) has it all. Still, it is very seldomly performed, and usually appears on recordings only as part of a comprehensive collection of cantatas. This most probably has to do with the atrocious reality of the Nazis misusing the motto “Jedem das Seine” during the Second World War. I first learned of this controversy through the J.S. Bach Foundation’s toughtful pre-concert lecture about this cantata. When doing further research, I found a good explanation by American Bach experts Daniel R. Melamed and Michael Marissen in their English translation of this cantata’s text:
Some present-day listeners are concerned that the title of this cantata, “Nur jedem das Seine,” resonates with anti-Jewish and other contempt, as its language might be taken to pre-echo the motto moulded on to the gate at the Buchenwald concentration camp, JEDEM DAS SEINE—literally, “to each his own,” but which the Nazis understoodas “one gets what he deserves.” Cantata 163’s “Nur jedem das Seine,” however, is employed in the context of the biblical obligation to pay taxes to secular authorities [“Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s,” from Matthew 22:15-22]. In the cantata’s biblical-liturgical context, the more specific sense of “Nur jedem das Seine” would be “Only to each his due,” and so we have rendered the phrase not as “Only to each his own,” […] but rather as “Just to each what is his.”
My favorite Recording: Bach Akademie Stuttgart under the direction of Hans-Christoph Rademann
Bach performed Cantata 163 Nur jedem das Seine! in Weimar in 1715, and most probably again in Leipzig in 1723. Because of this Leipzig performance, Bach Akademie Stuttgart / Hans-Christoph Rademann included it in their Vision Bach – The First Cantata Year series. It’s the very last cantata on Volume 4 of this series, and it makes this double-CD go out with a bang, with an all-star cast of soloists (Miriam Feuersinger, soprano; Alex Potter, countertenor; Benedikt Kristjánsson, tenor; Tobias Berndt, bass) and the always fabulous orchestra. Except for a teeny tiny part of the tenor aria (see below), this is my absolute favorite recording of this cantata. This Volume 4 also includes Cantata 162 for Trinity 20 and Cantata 89 for Trinity 22. Purchase it on Amazon.com or on jpc.de.
Please find the playlists I created for this specific cantata here on Spotify, and here on YouTube. Please find the text of Cantata 163 Nur jedem das Seine!here, and the score here.
The tenor aria – Weimar versus Leipzig
Benedikt Kristjánsson
Bach’s librettist in Weimar lets the tenor paraphrase the Gospel reading for this 23rd Sunday after Trinity, the story in which the Pharisees ask Jesus a trick question: Does loyalty to God actually permit paying taxes to the Emperor? To which Jesus, pointing to the Emperor’s image on a coin, cleverly replies, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.” Bach illustrates the words “Doch bleibet das Herze dem Höchsten alleine” (But the heart remains to the Most High alone) very lovingly with a tender question-and-answer between the tenor and the violin. With the larger, Leipzig style orchestra Rademann uses for the recording I recommended above, that tenderness gets lost a bit, because the original duet between one violin and one tenor (the way it must have been performed on the small organ loft in Weimar), is now a duet between an entire violin section and one tenor. While I really truly love Benedikt Kristjánsson’s singing on the Rademann recording (I love his voice and my qualm about this bit has nothing to do with him, just with the number of violins!), for this specific part I prefer the J.S. Bach Foundation recording with tenor Johannes Kaleschke and first violinist Renate Steinmann.
A bass aria with *two* solo cellists!
Similar to last week, this week I learned the most intriguing information about a cantata by listening to Michael Maul’s and Bernhard Schrammek’s podast.** In their episode about Cantata 163, Michael Maul explains that the Duke of Weimar’s favorite hobby was collecting coins, and that Bach’s librettist in Weimar, Salomo Franck (1659-1725), was also the administrator of the Duke’s extensive coin collection. When I looked this up, I realized that this coin collection had been in the Duke’s family for generations (see picture at the top of this post). What Franck and Bach thus do to please their employer results in a unique bass aria. Franck writes this text:
Lass mein Herz die Münze sein, Die ich dir, mein Jesu, steure! Ist sie gleich nicht allzu rein, Ach! so komm doch und erneure, Herr, den schönen Glanz bei ihr! Komm! arbeite, schmelz und präge, Dass dein Ebenbild bei mir Ganz erneuert glänzen möge!
Let my heart be the coin That I render [pay as tax] unto you, my Jesus. If it [the coin] is not altogether pristine, Ah, do come then and renew, Lord, the beautiful radiance to it. Come; work, melt, and emboss [it], So that your very image May radiate in me [who is] entirely renewed.
A minter’s workshop, late 17th century.
And then Bach does something he’s never done before: he decides to evoke the mechanical character of a minter’s work with a trio of low voices, all operating in the same range: a bass singer, accompanied by two solo cellos. The cellists don’t play continuo, but true solo parts. Never before or again do we see two solo cellos in a Bach aria. And there’s another reason he picks cellos, not bassoons, for example, because this way he can still illustrate the coin’s “schönen Glanz” (beautiful radiance). Never have I heard this done so beautifully as by Felix Zimmermann and Thomas Pitt, the cellists on the Rademann recording.
Miriam Feuersinger and Alex Potter – I can listen to them for days
Alex PotterMiriam Feuersinger
Along with the above mentioned controversy, the main reason why I had never written about this cantata before is that I hadn’t found a completely satisfying rendition of this cantata’s gorgeous soprano-alto duet. But fortunately that has now all changed with this Bach Akademie Stuttgart / Rademann recording. I can listen for days to Miriam Feuersinger and countertenor Alex Potter singing together, it gives me peace and comfort.
Other cantatas for this Sunday
I wrote about Cantata 139 Wohl dem, der sich auf seinenGott from 1724 twice already on this blog. My favorite recording of this cantata is still the one by the J.S. Bach Foundation under the direction of Rudolf Lutz. Find all the links in my post from 2017. In 1726 Bach wrote Cantata 52 Falsche Welt, dir trau ich nicht!, a cantata for solo soprano, with the music of the opening Sinfonia copied from his First Brandenburg Concerto. For this one I also recommend the J.S. Bach Foundation’s recording, with soprano Miriam Feuersinger. Find that recording here.
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*The Magistertaler was minted to commemorate the election of Prince Bernhard, son of Duke Wilhelm of Saxony-Weimar (1640–1672), as Rector Magnificissimus and the anniversary of the University of Jena in 1654. All magisters received the taler during the festivities marking this anniversary. The coin subsequently came to be known as the Magistertaler. Duke Wilhelm, founder of the main line of Saxony-Weimar, had the commemorative taler minted in Weimar.
**Who’s who: Prof. Dr. Michael Maul is a leading Bach researcher and the intendant of Bachfest Leipzig. Bernhard Schrammek is a musicologist and radio host. During the Covid pandemic, they started a podcast about Bach cantatas. Even though they have by now discussed all of Bach’s cantatas, they haven’t stopped the podcast. The podcasts name has since changed from “Die Bachkantate” to “Der Bach Kanal” but is still going strong. They even recorded live episodes with audience during this year’s Bachfest Leipzig. For a photo of both of them, see my post from last week.
Boys of St. Thomas Choir with actor Devid Striesow as J.S. Bach during the filming of “Bach – Ein Weihnachtswinder” (Bach – A Christmas Miracle), a movie that came out in Germany in December 2024*. The tall boy in the back has a smudge under his nose because in the previous scene he got into a fight with the St. Nicholas choir boys. Photo from St. Thomas Choir’s website.
Ten years ago I published the ultimate NON-post about Cantata 89 Was soll ich aus dir machen, Ephraim? because I had little time that week. So I feel today is a good occasion to travel back to October 24, 1723 (Trinity 22) in Leipzig, and go into movie script mode again.
My favorite recording overall of Cantata 89 Was soll ich aus dir machen, Ephraim? is the one by Bach Akademie Stuttgart under the direction of Hans-Christoph Rademann from their Vision Bach series, volume 4. Find it here on Youtube, or here on Spotify. Find the German texts with English translations here, and the score here.
Marie Henriette Reinhold. Photo by Christian Palm.
Just as two weeks ago in Cantata 162, it’s the opening movement that touches me the most, thanks to the same personnel as two weeks ago. Tobias Berndt’s singing is fabulous, and Anneke Scott’s corno da tirarsi cuts through the rest of the orchestra sound so much better than the “regular” natural horn most ensembles use for this cantata. And let’s not forget oboists Andreas Helm and Ana Inés Feola, who play all the “sighs” in this opening movement so beautifully. The alto solos by Marie Henriette Reinhold are also fantastic, especially with this unparalleled continuo group accompanying her: Györgyi Farkas, basssoon; Joseph Crouch, cello; Giuseppe Ciraso-Cali, double bass; and Julia Raasch, organ. They do a terrific job illustrating the grim tone of the alto aria’s text.
All this being said, I would like to add that for the soprano aria, I still love the J.S. Bach Foundation recording the best, with soprano Nuria Rial and oboist Kerstin Kramp almost dancing out of the church, so gloriously do they perform that movement.
God’s Voice in the opening movement – only one other cantata has this too.
Cantata 89 is an unusual cantata, because it starts with a Bible quote where God himself is speaking. Within Bach’s oeuvre, there are several cantatas that start with a solo bass singing literal words from the Bible as spoken by Jesus, but, as far as I know, there is only one other cantata (Cantata 88, written for July 21, 1726**) that starts with a solo bass singing God’s words.
So, now the question is: is there no choir singing in the opening movement of this cantata because Bach thought it inappropriate to give God’s words to more than one voice? Or did Bach instruct his librettist that he needed text for a solo singer, because, similar to two weeks ago for Cantata 162, he wanted to give the choir a break? Keep reading to learn why I think it’s the latter.
Michael Maul: “Perhaps Bach simply wanted to give the choir a little breather”
Michael Maul and Bernhard Schrammek
This past week, when doing research for this cantata, I became intrigued by something Michael Maul says in his and Bernhard Schrammek’s podcast from November 5, 2023. He explains that in Bach’s first four months in Leipzig, in 1723, he hadn’t spared any singers or instrumentalists. Opening choruses had been extensive and demanding, and solo instrumentalists had been given virtuoso parts to play in arias. Maul remarks that this changed suddenly in October of that year, when Bach started to alternate elaborate cantatas (the norm from June through September, 1723) with compositions for a smaller orchestra with only a few solo voices. For those smaller cantatas, he needed the choir only in the closing chorale.
I thought it would be helpful to see an overview of this. So, as far as we know now, here is what Bach’s performance schedule looked like for the months of October and November, 1723. The three cantatas with opening chorus in bold, the remaining five are smaller scale. Cantata 70 was an extra-long cantata including a demanding opening chorus and two chorales. Bach had already written the opening chorus, the arias, and one of the chorales of that cantata in Weimar.
October 3 (19th Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 48 Ich elender Mensch, wer wird mich erlösen October 10 (20th Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 162 Ach! ich sehe, itzt, da ich zur Hochzeit gehe October 17 (21st Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 109 Ich glaube, lieber Herr, hilf meinem Unglauben! October 24 (22nd Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 89 Was soll ich aus dir machen, Ephraim? October 31 (23rd Sunday after Trinity): most probably Cantata 163 Nur jedem das seine (from Weimar) November 7 (24th Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 60 O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort! November 14 (25th Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 90 Es reißet euch ein schrecklich Ende November 21 (26th Sunday after Trinity): Cantata 70 Wachet! betet! betet! wachet! (partly from Weimar)
In his German-spoken podcast, Maul says:
“I can’t give a specific reason—maybe there was some other event happening at the same time that put a strain on St. Thomas’ singers. Maybe there was also a high rate of sick leave. Perhaps Bach simply wanted—based on the experience he’d gained in the first few months—to give the choir a little breather […] before things really kicked into high gear for the Christmas season, so to speak. Because it was clear that it would be musically very demanding.” [translated by Deepl and me].
Time for another overview. This would be Christmas season 1723/1724 for Bach’s choir. Yes, all in bold, because it’s back to normal by that time, all these are elaborate cantatas with opening choruses.
Christmas Day: Cantata 63Christen, ätzet diesen Tag(originally from Weimar) and a newMagnificat Second Christmas Day: Cantata 40Darzu ist erschienen der Sohn Gotte Third Christmas Day: Cantata 64Sehet, welch eine Liebe hat uns der Vater erzeiget New Year’s Day 1724: Cantata 190Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied
While Bach would likely not have conceived the specific cantatas for Second and Third Christmas Day already in October, he might very well already have been writing or at least thinking about the Magnificat, and would have been planning to perform an elaborate cantata on each Christmas Day. If you have ever sung Bach’s Magnificat as a choral singer, you know it is an extremely challenging piece, up there with the trickiest parts of Bach’s Mass in B Minor.
So here’s my possible movie scenario: At a choir rehearsal at the end of September or beginning of October, Bach hands some vocal parts from his own music library to the choir boys. On one of them the text reads “Wachet! Betet!” and on the other “Christen, ätzet diesen Tag.” Maybe there’s even one that says “Gloria Patri.” Only half of the choir is there, the others are sick. There’s scarlet fever going around. The rehearsal is a bit of a disaster, and Bach realizes it will take some time to get this all together.
Other cantatas for this Sunday: Cantata 115Mache dich, mein Geist, bereit, a chorale cantata from 1724, about which I wrote in 2017 and 2019; and Cantata 55 Ich armer Mensch, ich Sündenknecht, a solo cantata for tenor from 1726. I have never written about that cantata, but I recommend the Gardiner recording with tenor James Gilchrist.
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*If you’re interested in watching this movie and are not in Germany, you’ll need a VPN, since it is only available in the ARD Mediathek. The movie has nothing to do with the content of this blog post! I just used one of their photos because it accuratly depicts the choir boys’ and Bach’s clothing. I could write an entire blog post about several strange choices in the script, but it’s a sweet story and it includes good music performed by the St. Thomas Choir, St. Thomas organist Johannes Lang, soprano Miriam Feuersinger, and Continuum Berlin. The movie is supposed to be set in Leipzig, but was mostly filmed at the Dom in Merseburg, and a bit in Weimar as well.
**Cantata numbers were assigned in the19th century by the Bachgesellschaft and do not correspond with the order in which Bach wrote the compositions.
Soprano Miriam Feuersinger introducing the “Bachkantaten in Vorarlberg” concert on November 15, 2020 in Bregenz, Austria.
For this 21st Sunday after Trinity, I would like to share two wonderful videos that were recorded during the Covid pandemic. I have so much respect for all the musicians involved in these concerts. While I can clearly see that it was a joy for them to sing and play Bach, and to make music with their colleagues again, let’s not forget that it must have been incredibly demanding, to perform for an empty church. They all had to pull it from somewhere else, that extra energy that performing for an audience normally gives you.
Cantata 98Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan[I] by Miriam Feuersinger and Friends
The first video features Cantata 98Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan[I] from 1726, performed in Bregenz, Austria, on November 15, 2020, by Miriam Feuersinger, soprano; Lea Elisabeth Müller, alto; Daniel Johannsen, tenor; Wolf Matthias Friedrich, bass; Bettina Simon and Agnes Glaßner, oboe; Regula Keller and Cosimo Stawiarski, violin; Johannes Frisch, viola; Bettina Messerschmidt, violoncello; Armin Bereuter, violone; and Johannes Hämmerle, organ. Watch the video here.
This recording is part of Miriam Feuersinger’s own Bach cantata series in her home state of Vorarlberg, Austria.
Find the German texts with English translations for Cantata 98 here, and the score here.
Cantata 109Ich glaube, lieber Herr, hilf meinem Unglauben! by the Netherlands Bach Society
Next up: Cantata 109Ich glaube, lieber Herr, hilf meinem Unglauben! From 1723, performed in Amsterdam, The Netherlands, on May 28, 2021, by the Netherlands Bach Society under the direction of Shunske Sato, with beautiful singing by countertenor Alex Potter and tenor Daniel Johannsen, and fabulous playing by Rodrigo Lopez Paz and Katharina Verhaar on oboe and Robert Vanryne on slide trumpet. Watch the video here.
Alex Potter and Daniel Johannsen both communicate the text in such an extraordinary and moving way, it’s the best kind of storytelling.
Find the German texts with English translations for Cantata 109 here, the score here, and my article from 2016 about this cantata here.
The Netherlands Bach Society in an empty Walloon Church in Amsterdam, May 2021
Other cantatas for this Sunday
Bach wrote Cantata 38Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir in 1724, as part of his 1724-1725 Chorale Cantata cycle. In my post from 2017 I recommend the Herreweghe/Collegium Vocale Gent recording, in my post from 2020 the Lutz/J.S. Bach Foundation recording. Those articles also include updated links for the score and texts.
For Cantata 188Ich habe meine Zuversicht from 1728, there’s a lovely video recording by the J.S. Bach Foundation under the direction of Rudolf Lutz, with soprano Guro Hjemli, countertenor Jan Börner, tenor Johannes Kaleschke, and bass Manuel Walser. Find it here. Find the score here, and the German texts with English translations here.
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The Parable of the Unworthy Wedding Guest attributed to Simon Kick, circa 1644. Oil on Canvas. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
Every now and then, a cantata recording knocks my socks off. It happened this week. And since I need to keep this post short, I’ll leave the other five articles I had brewing in my mind on the shelf for the future, and I’ll just tell you about that one recording.
Tobias Berndt
It’s the Leipzig version of Cantata 162Ach! ich sehe, itzt, da ich zur Hochzeit gehe by Bach Akademie Stuttgart under the direction of Hans-Christoph Rademann, from their Vision Bach series, Volume 4. The opening movement gives me the good kind of stomach ache, thanks to gorgeous singing by Tobias Berndt, unparalleled corno da tirarsi playing by Anneke Scott, and this fantastic orchestra. Another highlight is the duet by alto Marie Henriette Reinhold and tenor Patrick Grahl, accompanied by a terrific continuo group.
Find this recording on YouTube or on Spotify in playlists created by me. To learn more about Bach Akademie Stuttgart’s Vision Bach series and how to purchase the CDs, read my post about their recording of Cantatas 105 and 46. Find the German texts with English translations here, and the score here.
Cantata 162 – A Short History
Bach wrote this cantata originally for the 20th Sunday after Trinity in 1716 in Weimar, setting texts by his favorite librettist there, court librarian Salomon Franck. Franck transforms the question “Am I dressed properly?” from the The Parable of the Unworthy Wedding Guest (Matthew 22:1-14, the Gospel for this Sunday) into “Have I made the right choices?”
Since Bach had limited performance space in the Duke’s chapel in Weimar, he composed this original piece for a small instrumental ensemble: strings, bassoon, and continuo, plus likely a solo wind instrument for the soprano aria (movement 3).*
Anneke Scott – The Queen of the Corno da Tirarsi
For the 1723 performance in Leipzig, Bach added a corno da tirarsi in the first and last movements. In his time, most probably the only person who could play the corno da tirarsi was Gottfried Reiche, because Bach stopped writing for this instrument after Reiche’s death in 1732.
Anneke Scott with corno da tirarsi. Photo by Nick Gilbert.
Today, we are lucky to have more than one musician who can handle this instrument. I’m thinking of Alain de Rudder (Herreweghe), Toshio Shimada (Suzuki), and last but not least, Olivier Picon (J.S. Bach Foundation), who did important research on the instrument and initiated Egger’s reconstruction of the original. But for me, the Queen of the corno da tirarsi is Anneke Scott. I already talked about her fabulous performance in Cantatas 46 and 105 on Volume 3 of Rademann’s Vision Bach several weeks ago, and in this Cantata 162 she does it again! Her playing is simply stunning, I have never heard the corno da tirarsi played with such beautiful phrasing and sound quality as she does on these Vision Bach recordings.
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*For his recording in 1996 (Yumiko Kurisu, soprano; Yoshimichi Hamada, recorder) Masaaki Suzuki created a part for solo recorder, which has subsequently also been used by Lutz/J.S. Bach Foundation (Gerlinde Sämann, soprano; Annina Stahlberger, recorder) and for the performance discussed here by Rademann/Bach Akademie Stuttgart (Catalina Bertucci, soprano; Andreas Helm, recorder).
Detail of Pieter Brueghel II’s Landschap met Kruisdraging (Landscape with Christ Carrying the Cross) from around 1605. Oil on oak wood. Bonnefantenmuseum, Maastricht, the Netherlands. Click here to see the entire painting and its eventful history in the 1940s.
What do you think of when you hear the text of the solo cantata for bass “Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen”? My mental image was similar to the painting above, but this week, that got turned on its head when I read research published in 2015. However, my favorite recording is still the same! My love for this particular performance is older than my marriage!
Peter Kooij, image taken from a video by the Netherlands Bach Society.
That favorite recording of Cantata 56 Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragenis the one by Herreweghe with Peter Kooij and Marcel Ponseele, from 1991. Not this same piece by Peter Kooij with other conductors or orchestras, only Herreweghe. Because for me, it’s the combination that makes the magic. Peter Kooij’s musicality, voice, and text-awareness is always there, but under Herreweghe’s direction the music flows and every musical line takes you to a point far beyond the note that’s currently in your ears.
Marcel Ponseele
And then there’s Marcel Ponseele’s oboe playing. I know no other recording where the oboe and the voice dance so beautifully together in the third movement “Endlich, endlich wird mein Joch” (Finally, finally will my yoke). Kooij and Ponseele were both with Herreweghe for decades, but Kooij, 72, has retired from touring, and Ponseele, 69, has recently left Herreweghe’s ensembles to focus more on his own projects. (see my previous post for an example of the fabulous productions he creates with his ensemble Il Gardellino).
The score of Cantata 56 Ich will den Kreuzstab gerne tragen can be found here. The German text with a thorough and thoughtful English translation by Michael Marissen & Daniel R. Melamed can be found here. In their translation, Kreuzstab is correctly translated as cross staff, such as a Bishop’s staff, or even a medieval navigation device as pictured at the very bottom of this post (more about that later!). But in about half of the English translations out there, it is translated as cross beam.
Wy did I also have that image of the cross beam in my head, instead of a cross staff? For me, that has to do with the word “Joch” (yoke) in the third movement, but also with Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. As a Dutch choral singer, I know the St. Matthew Passion libretto from memory, and thus, for me, that text always comes to mind first. Concert programs also sometimes feature the “Komm, süsses Kreuz” (Come, sweet cross) bass aria from the St. Matthew Passion together with this Kreuzstab cantata.
In the St. Matthew Passion, leading up to that “Kom, süsses Kreuz” aria, the Evangelist sings the Gospel text from Matthew:
Und da sie ihn verspottet hatten, zogen sie ihm den Mantel aus und zogen ihm seine Kleider an und führeten ihn hin, dass sie ihn kreuzigten. Und indem sie hinausgingen, funden sie einen Menschen von Kyrene mit Namen Simon; den zwungen sie, dass er ihm sein Kreuz trug.
And when they [the Roman soldiers] had ridiculed him, they took the cloak off him and put his own clothing on him, and led him forth, so that they might crucify him. And as they were going out, they found a man from Cyrene named Simon; they forced him to carry Jesus’ cross for him.
Thus, that image of literally carrying Jesus’ wooden cross is a vivid one. Then, in the “Komm, süsses Kreuz” aria, Bach’s librettist, in his 18th-century reflection on the Gospel text, makes the connection to suffering, metaphorically bearing a cross.
Komm, süsses Kreuz, so will ich sagen, Mein Jesu, gib es immer her! Wird mir mein Leiden einst zu schwer, So hilfst du mir es wieder tragen.
Come, sweet cross, so I will say, My Jesus, ever give it here [for me to bear]! If someday my suffering becomes too heavy for me, Then you will help me bear it [the cross] again.
But this Kreuzstab Cantata 156 is only partly about that. Foremost, the text talks about finding a way through one’s life, letting God lead the way, and finding a safe harbor, using a wealth of metaphors from marine navigation. See for example the analogy in the second movement “Mein Wandel auf der Welt ist einer Schiffahrt gleich: Betrübnis, Kreuz und Not sind Wellen, welche mich bedecken und auf den Tod mich täglich schrecken” (My course of life in the world is like a ship voyage: distress, cross-bearing, and hardship are waves that cover me and daily scare me) and these words in the closing chorale: “Löse meines Schiffleins Ruder, bringe mich an sichern Port!” (Free the rudder of my little ship, bring me to safe harbor). So in that sense, the image of a cross staff is more appropriate than that of “the” wooden Cross.
I didn’t come up with this myself of course. Already in 1985, Gustav Adolf Theill explained that the cross-staff was a nautical device used to determine distances and positional coordinates. It would take until the 1730s for this to be replaced by the sextant. Theill linked the description of a cross-staff with Bach’s succession of notes in the bass motif (Ich – will – den – Kreuz – stab) of the first movement.
Dr. Christine Blanken
Thirty years later, in 2015, Dr. Christine Blanken of Bach-Archiv Leipzig presented more evidence. She had discovered that Bach’s student Christoph Birkmann was most likely the librettist of this and other solo cantatas from the fall and winter of 1726. In addition, she showed that only two months before Bach’s performance of this cantata, Birkmann, also a mathematician and physicist, had given an academic presentation about trigonometrical calculations requiring the use of cross staffs such as pictured at the bottom of this post.
So, while Bach might have had both Jesus’ wooden cross and a cross staff in mind, his librettist was definitely thinking of the latter.
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Frontispiece to the Introductio geographica, by Petrus Apianus, 1532. The illustration depicts the use of a cross-staff, or Jacob’s staff, to measure angles. The instrument was used in astronomy, navigation, and surveying.
Over the summer and fall of 1726, Bach wrote several solo cantatas with the organ as “duet partner” for the vocal soloist. Cantata 169Gott soll allein mein Herze haben, written for this 18th Sunday after Trinity, is one of these. Until 2023, I had always heard and seen these solo cantatas performed the way you can see in this video, with the organist playing on a small “portative” organ, on the same stage as the other members of the orchestra.
When in February 2023, ensemble Il Gardellino released a CD featuring two of these solo cantatas with countertenor Alex Potter, I at first merely started listening to it because I was excited to hear one of my favorite soloists perform together with one of my favorite ensembles. The album cover doesn’t reveal more than those two names, and neither did the social media posts that alerted me about the release at the time.
But as I heard the first few notes I started smiling: instead of a portative organ I heard a large church organ! And oh, what an incredibly gorgeous instrument! Turns out this album was recorded at the Stiftskirche St. Georg (collegiate church of St. George) in Grauhof (Goslar), Germany, using that church’s famous Treutmann organ from 1737 (pictured above), played by Dutch organist Leo van Doeselaar. Bach wrote the organ part of these solo cantatas clearly with a large church organ in mind. However, because of challenges of tuning pitch, space, and place, playing these cantatas on large church organs can often not be achieved in concerts. So we’re lucky to have recordings like these!
I’ve listened to this album many times since, because I appreciate Alex Potter’s sensitivity to the text, but also because I love how the rainbow of colors in Alex Potter’s voice is perfectly matched by the organ’s sound, thanks to Van Doeselaar’s fabulous registration.*
Find this recording on YouTube or on Spotify. Cantata 169 is the second cantata on this album. Please consider purchasing the recording to support the artists, for example on Amazon if you are in the USA or directly from the record label if you are in Europe.
Please find the score for Cantata 169Gott soll allein mein Herze habenhere, and the German texts with English translations here.
Leo van Doeselaar, photo by Eduardus Lee.
Coming back to Van Doeselaar’s registration, when you listen to this album, don’t miss the organ piece between the two cantatas, the Toccata, Adagio and Fugue in C Major, BWV 564. Van Doeselaar uses the “Glockenspiel” stop in the first measures of the Toccata. The stop was added during a recent renovation of the organ. When I asked Van Doeselaar about using it here, he said that he knows Bach appreciated a Glockenspiel stop since it is listed in his 1708 specification for the new organ in Mühlhausen**, and that he just had to let that shine through in the Toccata, he couldn’t help himself, “it was too much fun!”
This cantata’s text is based on a passage from the Gospel reading for this Sunday, Matthew 22:34–46, in which Jesus formulates the “double commandment”: “Love God with all your heart” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Only the recitative (movement 6) addresses the “Love your neighbor as yourself”; the preceding movements focus on “Gottesliebe” (love for or from God), in its two meanings: humankind’s subjective love for God, which implies a rejection of worldly pleasures (movements 2,3, and 5); and God’s objective love for people, which comes to people as a gift (movement 4).
If the music reminds you of something, you’re right! For the first two movements of his harpsichord concerto BWV 1053 in E major Bach arranged movement 1 and 5 from this cantata.*** However, the cantata movements are not the original pieces of music either, but rather arrangements of a lost concerto. For a long time it was assumed that this was a concerto composed in Köthen for a woodwind instrument or a viola, and there are many recordings of this piece as an oboe concerto. Only in 2005 Christoph Wolff suggested that it may have been an organ concerto performed in 1725 at the Sophienkirche in Dresden.
There is, hooray, one more cantata for this Sunday featuring Alex Potter’s gorgeous singing: Cantata 96Herr Christ, der einge Gottessohn from Gli Angeli Genève’s Chorale Cantata Box I spotlighted last week. Please find this recording here on Youtube and here on Spotify. Exceptionally, in this cantata Bach gives the cantus firmus in the opening chorus to the altos. And on Gli Angeli Genève’s recording, the a capella chorale preceding the cantata is sung by two altos and one soprano: Alex Potter, Christelle Monney, and Anne-Kathryn Olsen. Read my post from 2017 to learn why Bach brings the Christmas story into a Trinity cantata, and find a video by the J.S. Bach Foundation’s in my post from 2020.
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*When talking about an organ, “registration” means the organist’s decision regarding which sound registers, called “stops,” to use when playing a piece of music. If you would like to know more about this art, please watch this video by the Netherlands Bach Society, in which Van Doeselaar explains his approach and compares it to the work of a chef. The organ in this video is the Arp Schnittger organ in Groningen I mentioned and pictured in my previous post.
**As organist of the Blasiuskirche in Mühlhausen, from 1707 to 1708, Bach initiated a complete renovation of the organ by local builder Johann Friedrich Wender. He however already left Mühlhausen before the instrument would be finished in 1709. The organ was reconstructed in the 1950s at the instigation of Albert Schweitzer based on Bach’s specification drawn up in 1708.
***The music of the third movement is the same as the opening chorus of Cantata 49, which is part of that same group of solo cantatas with organ from 1726.
This week I returned from a wonderful vacation in the Scottish Highlands. While I miss the stunning nature and the friendly people, it was much easier to get back to writing than normally after a trip, because this fall I’m part of an all-women writer’s group. Two times a week we all log in to Zoom and then do our own writing for 2 hours and receive inspiring coaching by Jennifer Louden. The community and accountability work wonders for me, and I hope that after the group disbands in December, I will have sufficiently strengthened the commitment to myself to keep making time for my writing, and keep my standards at a realistic level.
Gli Angeli Genève’s Chorale Cantata Box
“The Complete Chorale Cantatas” by Gli Angeli Genève, released in 2025.
Continuing to highlight remarkable cantata recordings that came out over the past few years, this time I would like to put the spotlight on baritone Stephan MacLeod’s ensemble Gli Angeli Genève. And before you start giggling about about me featuring a Scottish conductor after coming back from a trip to Scotland, Stephan MacLeod is a native of Geneva!
In 2025, Gli Angeli Genève released “The Complete Chorale Cantatas”: nineteen CDs packaged together in a tastefully and thoughtfully designed cardboard album, with two paperback books, one with all the tracks and texts, the other with all the program notes. Both books have most of the information in English, German, and French. The only place an English translation is missing is in the cantata texts. Those only have French translations.
It’s of course not just this collection’s design that makes it an exceptional release. What stands out to me most are the musical introductions to each cantata. Each work is preceded by an organ prelude by Bach or one of his contemporaries on the same chorale that the cantata is based on, followed by the chorale itself, sung a capella by two or three singers. In today’s world where we listeners are not as familiar with these chorale tunes as listeners in Bach’s time were, this makes a huge difference in appreciating these cantatas.
Arp Schnittger Organ, Groningen, the Netherlands.
I applaud Gli Angeli Genève going through the extra trouble of recording these additional pieces after they had already recorded all the cantatas. The cantatas were recorded live over the course of 12 years, from 2011 to 2023, all in Geneva. The a capella chorale tunes were recorded in three different sessions spread out over 2024, in Geneva, Chaux-de-Fonds (also in Switzerland), and Groningen (the Netherlands). All the organ preludes were recorded in September 2024 on a historic organ from Bach’s time, the Arp Schnitger Organ in the Martinikerk (St. Martin’s church) in Groningen, the Netherlands. Organist Francis Jacob does a fabulous job on this beautiful instrument, and his registrations and notes for each of the pieces are included in one of the books included with the CD box.
Cantata 114 Ach, Lieben Christen, seid getrost for the 17th Sunday after Trinity
On to the cantata for this Sunday, Cantata 114Ach, lieben Christen, seid getrost, from 1724. It appears on CD 7 of Gli Angeli Genève’s “The Complete Chorale Cantatas” box. If you’re in Europe, you can purchase the box on jpc.de: you pay 160 euros instead of the original price of 200 euros. It’s also available on Amazon.de and Amazon.uk. If you’re outside of Europe you’ll have to rely on the streaming platforms. Find Cantata 114 here on Spotify, or here on YouTube (this is a playlist of the entire album (CD 7), just scroll down to the 9th track to start this cantata with the organ prelude).
Find the German texts with English translations for Cantata 114 here, and the score here. I have previously published two articles about this cantata on this blog, in 2017 and 2020. The one from 2017 includes a detailed listening guide and the one from 2020 shares a few more recordings.
Coming back to the musical introductions I mentioned above, sopranos Aleksandra Lewandowska and Sarah van Mol sing a 17th-century anonymous setting of the chorale. I love their voices together and I could listen to their a capella chorale singing all day. If you have time, check out their rendition of “Lobe den Herren, den mächtigen König der Ehren” preceding Cantata 137 on CD 5 of this same box. Goose bumps!
However, what I love most about Gli Angeli Genève’s recording of this cantata is the opening chorus, with exquisite phrasing by the orchestra, and beautiful transparency in the chorus. The two-on-a-part singing works really well in this case!
Thomas Hobbs
Tenor Thomas Hobbs and flutist Alexis Kossenko do a terrifyingly beautiful job in the tenor aria. This is the slowest I’ve ever heard this aria performed, but again, it works. In this tempo, the “sighs” in the flute part really make me think of sobs, fitting for an illustration of “Jammertale” (vales of tears). I still also really love the J.S. Bach Foundation/Lutz’ recording with flutist Marc Hantaï and tenor Georg Poplutz. When you regard this aria’s text, Wo wird in diesem Jammertale vor meinen Geist die Zuflucht sein? (Where in this vale of tears will there be a refuge for my spirit?) I feel that Thomas Hobbs focuses more on illustrating the vale of tears, while Georg Poplutz expresses the problem of where to turn to.
But let’s not forget the soprano and alto solos! The soprano solo consists of a verse of the chorale with an exciting continuo accompaniment, performed convincingly here by sopranos Alexandra Lewandowska and Anne-Kathryn Olsen. It’s fun for me to hear Anne-Kathryn sing, because she and I chatted online during the Covid pandemic about her working in Europe as an American soprano, and about San Francisco Bay Area audiences versus European audiences (it’s not what you think). Her voice also sounds fabulous together with Alexandra Lewandowska’s, so I guess Alexandra is good at selecting fellow singers 🙂
Anne-Kathryn OlsenAlexandra Lewandowska
Now we can all go in peace.
As almost always in a Bach cantata, there is a turning point where the text and music move from misery to glory. In this cantata this happens in the alto aria. Bach illustrates the at the same time victorious and peaceful text with a joyful orchestra accompaniment with oboe solos, beautifully played by Emmanuel Laporte, and a virtuoso part for the singer. And what better countertenor to sing this than Alex Potter? Now we can all go in peace.
More cantatas for this 17th Sunday after Trinity
One year later, for this same 17th Sunday after Trinity, Bach wrote Cantata 148Bringet dem Herrn Ehre seines Namens. Please find my previous posts about this cantata here. Since last year, there’s been a beautiful new recording out on Youtube, performed by the J.S. Bach Foundation under the direction of Rudolf Lutz, with two of my favorite soloists, countertenor Alex Potter and tenor Daniel Johannsen. Find it here.
For this past Sunday, the 11th after Trinity, I would love to share Bach Akademie Stuttgart’s recording of Cantata 179 Siehe zu, daß deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei sei and Cantata199 Mein Herze schwimmt im Blut. 303 years ago, these two cantatas were performed during the same church service in Leipzig, Cantata 179 before the sermon, and Cantata 199 after the sermon. The absolute highlight of this recording for me is tenor Daniel Johannsen’s fabulous singing throughout Cantata 179, not just in his two solo movements, but also in the choruses. In addition, soprano Miriam Feuersinger’s moving rendition of solo cantata 199 on this recording is not to be missed. Keep reading to find out why this cantata is Feuersinger’s personal favorite.
Read more about the Vision Bach project and this Volume 3 album in last week’s post. You can purchase this album on Amazon or Arkiv Music if you are in the USA, or on jpc if you are in Europe. Please consider purchasing to support the artists! Also available on Spotify and YouTube.
Spotlight on tenor Daniel Johannsen
For Cantata 179 Siehe zu, daß deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei sei, find the score here, and the German text with English translations here.
In my previous posts about this cantata, I mostly wrote about the stunning fugue in the opening chorus. Learn all about it in my posts from 2016 and 2023. But today’s spotlight is on tenor Daniel Johannsen, who illustrates the text in the tenor recitative and aria like no other.
Johannsen’s father was a Protestant pastor and his mother was a religion teacher, so from a very young age, he was familiar with the power of telling a story. He has degrees in both vocal performance and church music, and I believe this all contributes to his exceptional communication of the texts in Bach’s sacred music.
My aunt and Daniel Johannsen outside the Thomaskirche
Over the past fifteen years or so, Johannsen has recorded a great number of Bach’s hymns, cantatas, and oratorios with The Netherlands Bach Society , the J.S. Bach Foundation, and Bach Akademie Stuttgart. The Bach cantata YouTube boom came too late for my mother, who passed away in 2010, but my mother’s oldest sister, also a great Bach fan, as well as a theologian and retired minister, is an avid viewer of those performances. This past June I had the great fortune to visit Bachfest Leipzig together with her. We got to hear Daniel Johannsen sing three times in the Thomaskirche. After the first concert, with the J.S. Bach Foundation under the direction of Rudolf Lutz, my aunt said: “it doesn’t matter that we sit with our back to the performers here, because I know his voice so well from all the videos, I see him in my mind when I hear him sing.” Lutz’s concerts moved her to tears, especially because of the soloists’ communication of the texts. How lucky we were that Daniel took the time after his last Bachfest concert to pose for a photo with my aunt.
Rademann and Feuersinger on the couch with Maul and Schrammek
Miriam Feuersinger, Michael Maul, Bernhard SchrammekRudolf Lutz, Miriam Feuersinger, Hans-Christoph Rademann
Another reason why these two cantatas are special to me this summer is because of the Maul und Schrammek talk show I attended during Bachfest Leipzig. Miriam Feuersinger was the first guest on Michael Maul’s and Berhnard Schrammek’s couch, and when they asked her what her favorite Bach cantata is, she didn’t have to think twice: it’s Cantata199 Mein Herze schwimmt im Blut. She explained that this cantata has been a great help to her during a difficult time in her life, and she loves the composition’s “theologische Aussagekraft” (theological expressiveness, theological meaning).
For Cantata199 Mein Herze schwimmt im Blut, find the score here, and the German text with English translations here.
Ach, Hans-Christoph, mach wie immer: mach was Schönes!
Later, during that same talk show, when Lutz and Rademann had joined Feuersinger on the couch, Rademann told a story that made me laugh. He recounted a time he felt somewhat stuck: he no longer knew how to direct the opening chorus of Cantata 179, because of the negation in the first line of the text. He telephoned Jos van Veldhoven (artistic director of the Netherlands Bach Society from 1983 to 2018) to ask him for advice. Jos van Veldhoven’s responded with a simple solution: “Ach, Hans-Christoph, mach wie immer: mach was Schönes!” (“Oh, Hans-Christoph, just do what you always do: make it beautiful!”).
Oh, how I wish I could have been there in person, in July 2023! At the Schlosskirche (Palace Church) of the Ludwigsburg Palace in Germany, looking up at this ceiling painting by Carlo Carlone, and hearing Bach’s incredible cantatas 105 and 46 performed by the Gaechinger Cantorey under the direction of Hans-Christoph Rademann.
Alas, that summer I had other things on my mind, and was pretty late catching on to Rademann’s Vision Bach, a project to record all Bach’s cantatas from his first year in Leipzig (1723/1724), in the order in which Bach wrote them. So I missed most of those live concerts, but I managed to attend one in February 2024, went to this ensemble’s St. Matthew Passion in Hamburg in March 2025, and became a fan. This June, I had the great fortune to hear two of their performances at Bachfest Leipzig. There, everyone’s energy, but especially the quality of the orchestra blew me away. I was not alone in this, festival director Michael Maul complimented the orchestra too the next day during the talkshow he co-hosted.
Hans-Christoph Rademann, photo by Marco Borggreve
Rademann took over the Bach Akademie Stuttgart and the Gaechinger Cantorey from Helmut Rilling in 2013, and immediately replaced the orchestra with a period instrument ensemble. During the first three years, this happened through collaborations with Freiburger Barockorchester and Akademie Alte Musik Berlin. In 2016 Rademann founded the Bach Akademie Stuttgart’s own orchestra, also under the name Gaechinger Cantorey. And I feel you can tell that this orchestra is only 10 years young.
All 10 Volumes of Vision Bach are out now. Please scroll down on this website by Bachakademie Stuttgart to order directly from the publisher if you are in the European Union. Or visit this website, with links to order from Amazon if you are in the USA, and links for YouTube. I hope to discuss more of these Vision Bach recordings over the coming weeks and months.
For this Sunday, the 10th after Trinity, Bach wrote Cantata 46, Schauet doch und sehet, ob irgendein Schmerz sei in 1723. It appears on Vision Bach, Volume 3. You can purchase this on Amazon or Arkiv Music if you are in the USA, or on jpc if you are in Europe. Please consider purchasing, to support the artists! Also available on Spotify and YouTube.
Find the score here, and the German text with English translations here.
The recording of Cantata 46 features gorgeous singing by alto Elvira Bill and tenor Benedikt Kristjánsson, and the beautiful sound of Anneke Scott’s corno da tirarsi* in the opening chorus and closing chorale. But the absolute best is the bass aria.
Hannes Rux-BrachtendorfMatthias Winckhler
We all know Bach’s illustration of thunder and lightning from his St. Matthew Passion, but he does it very well too in this apocalyptic bass aria. And this performance by Baroque trumpet player Hannes Rux-Brachtendorf and bass Matthias Winckhler (yes, that’s really five consonants in a row in the middle of his last name) is unrivaled. Especially how together they illustrate the word “unerträglich” (unbearable) in the third line of the text, it is indeed almost unbearable, it is that good! I have never heard those harmonic crunches so well done on any other recording.
Dein Wetter zog sich auf von weiten, Doch dessen Strahl bricht endlich ein Und muss dir unerträglich sein, Da überhäufte Sünden Der Rache Blitz entzünden Und dir den Untergang bereiten.
Your tempest brewed from afar, Yet at long last its flash breaks forth And must be unbearable to you, As heaped-up sins Set aflame the lightning of vengeance And bring about your downfall.**
Hannes Rux-Brachtendorf plays with fabulous technique and gorgeous phrasing. His playing was impressive too during Bachfest Leipzig in Cantata 51 Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen. And Matthias Winckhler — ahhhhh, he has it all, the beautiful voice, the colors, the core in the sound. And he can do it all, sing all the notes, do the colloraturas, tell the story, AND move me. I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, because I observe a growing number of Lied and opera engagements on his calendar, so we might hear him less often in Bach cantatas.
Anneke Scott with corno da tirarasi* in the Palace church in Ludwigsburg – photo by Holger Schneider.
When listening to this Volume 3 of Vision Bach, don’t miss the cantata this album opens with: Cantata 105 Herr, gehe nicht ins Gericht mit deinem Knecht for the ninth Sunday after Trinity (last week). Find the text for that cantata here. The recording features gorgeous singing by the one and only Miriam Feuersinger in the soprano aria “Wie zittern und wanken;” a five star performance by horn player Anneke Scott (again on corno da tirarsi*) and tenor Benedikt Kristjánsson in “Kann ich nur Jesum mir zum Freunde machen;” and last but not least, Matthias Winckhler in the arioso “Wohl aber dem, der seinen Bürgen weiss.” This movement always makes me think of the “Am abend da es kühle war” arioso from Bach’s St. Matthew Passion, and it moves me to tears.